Monthly Archives: June 2014

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It’s never said with pride or with seriousness. It’s never said with the intent to brag about some success or parenting win. And if it IS said that way, it’s because we’ve acquired THE toy of the season, or our child’s dream, or we’ve made the meal they LOVE, or we’ve planned the birthday party that will blow their mind and your pocketbook, but probably won’t be remembered by the birthday child.

We’re not saying it to focus on the positive. We’re not saying it to remind ourselves that parenthood is a hard climb, one not for the faint of heart, and yet we’re doing okay. We’re definitely not saying it to actually win an award. Because it is said sardonically, to underline, underscore, draw attention to our perceived failures.

“Forgot the bake sale at school today. Mom of the year!”

“Spilled water all over the 34786th drawing Sophie gave me this morning. #momfail”

“Mom of the Year moment: Cut the baby’s nails too short. Who knew they bled that much?”

“Yelled about the 5th accident today. Feel like a jerk. Serious mom fail.”

“Had a great day with my kids…then bunged up bedtime. I SUCK.”

I think we do this for a couple of reasons.

There’s definitely a social market for failure stories. People love them. They get a lot of likes on Facebook. They get people laughing. And they really demonstrate that some days are hard to believe: This is REALLY my life?! REALLY?!

And if we make light of the failures, no matter how small or inconsequential, then maybe no one else will call us out on how we’re clearly not succeeding. How we’re big failures. How maybe we’re the absolute wrong person for this job. How this is all just a big mistake.

I am pro being real. I am all for talking about how hard the parenting gig is, how frustrating it can be, how much we can hate it (yes, HATE it, like this article so eloquently explains), and how some days you wonder just what you’ve done to your life.

But, should we keep being mean to ourselves? Should we put ourselves down every time we make a mistake, let something slide, drop a ball? Should we point out our rather small, not so memorable failures, just so no one else will notice them or realize that we are impostors? Mothers who shouldn’t be. Parents who really have no clue what they’re doing?

Finding humor in our seemingly insane, unreal, nonsensical days makes sense. It’s the old adage – if we’re not laughing, we’d be crying. But, when the #momfail stops being funny and starts being what we actually believe, what we tell ourselves, the inner track that berates us for forgetting one thing on our list of dozens of things we actually remembered, that’s where it gets tricky.

My sister-in-law posted on Facebook that her son, my shy, not-so-adventurous nephew, had a banner day for trying new things…and then she included she forgot her camera, so she failed. #momoftheyear failed. Even though, considering all of the hurdles my nephew has had to overcome, the fact that she’s a single mom right now since my brother-in-law is away for business, the fact that she’s a rock star mom to a sweet, awesome kid…she found the failure, the moment where she wish it could have been different, even though THAT moment really made no difference. But, it’s what she is dwelling on. What she is remembering.

I think that hashtagging moments where we didn’t quite make the play, didn’t quite make the ball connect with the bat, didn’t quite do the job we wanted to do, is fine. #momoftheyear and #momfail moments are going to happen. Period. But let’s not let them take over. Let’s not let them be the only things we remember.

Forgot the bake sale? That’s okay. There will be another. And your kid probably didn’t even really notice. He was too busy sharing his friends’ treats.

Dropped a toy on the baby’s head and made her scream? Is she all right? Then, that’s okay. It happens. It won’t be the last time. Does she need medical attention? Did you get it for her? Then, good job. You are surviving the hospital system with your baby. That’s tough stuff and you’re doing it. Rock star.

Feel guilty about missing a dance class? Not sending your kid to school with the right colour shirt? Not doing the laundry so that their favourite dress would be clean for that particular Thursday that looks like every other Thursday? Fine. Feel guilty. For a minute. Then let it go. They have. They won’t remember unless you miss all the dance classes, never show up, never try, don’t love them, and let them go to school naked.

You’re human. A human parent to a crazy tiny human. Or lots of crazy tiny humans. And that is tough. You’re doing okay. Don’t live in the fail. Move on to the success, the happy, the joy, because as a kid, that’s where they live every day. And all they want is for you to live with them there. Promise.

Need inspiration? Visit Finding Joy, a blog by a mom of SEVEN. I want to be her when I grow up. You know, without the seven kids.

These past couple of weeks have been nutso at work with the launch of our upgraded system! I was so very lucky to be a part of the team in the launch, but with this came overtime… hours spent with the team rather than cuddled up with my pups and Cody. It was so nutso that I have hardly made dinner and the laundry and the dishes are mounting… However I made it through the wilderness, oh ya I made it throughhhhhhhhhhhOHHHH… And how, do you ask, did I make it through?

1. CAFFEINE

I used to avoid caffeine because after all it stunts growth, and with how deficient I am in that department, I couldn’t chance shrinking! But then I became a grownup, one that gets up in the morning, packs a “proper lunch” and skips off to work with my second cup of joe in my hand. That’s right. I said second. This is a marathon, not a sprint people! When you have 12 maybe dare I say 14 hours ahead of you staring a computer screen, wanting to rip your hair, her hair and everyone’s hair out because you are so confused and tired, caffeine is your BEST FRIEND! It’s a warm cup of WAKE UP, and also is a good distraction to that very loud grumble coming from your stomach…which leads me to my next point!

2. Food for fuel

Our team and our whole office consists of mostly women, and when women get hungry…we get hangry, which by definition is the emotion of anger coming from the lack-o-food in one’s belly. When you are hungry and working until the wee hours of the morning, there is no diet, or logical reasoning behind your cravings – just give in! You want bananas, string cheese, and Skittles, you get the damn things! Because if you miss something that one of your co-workers requested, you best believe that you are going to hear about it for the rest of the night.

3. Laughter

No matter what it is that is tickling your fancy, laugh! If it makes you laugh till you cry, and it’s not even that funny, laugh. Laugh at a mispronounced name, or the way that your boss is slurping up her grapefruit while trying to be serious about the project you are working on. You are going to go CRAZY if you take everything seriously! Laugh – trust me…it makes it all better.

4. Caffeine

Yes, I am repeating myself, but it needs to be repeated. This is the mid-afternoon, 3-p.m.-we-gotta-make-it-till-1-a.m. coffee. Whether it’s iced coffee, black coffee, triple-triple, medium roast, non-fat, all the fat whole milk with whip, WHAT EVER IT IS… just keep the caffeine coming…I mean it. Caffeine makes the world a better place…I may need to get help…

5. Mirror avoidance

When you go to the bathroom mid-afternoon (this is inevitable after 1 and 4; it’s just science), keep your head down. The mirror will only remind you of how many hours of sleep you missed out on last night…and the night before that, and the night before that, and what day of the week is it? Seriously – when you look in the mirror it’s not going to be pretty, all the mirror is going to do is show you the mustard stain that is on your shirt…even though you didn’t have anything with mustard today…and you may be wearing the same outfit as yesterday. But hey! You brushed your teeth this morning… so, go get yourself a cookie! And more coffee…

6. Goal setting

Whether it is those super cute shoes you saw in the window, a boob job, or your wedding… make you the reason that the overtime is worth it. And constantly remind yourself why you look the way and feel the way you do. That there is a point to this madness! Just like when you are sweating your balls off while working out, you are doing it for something!

7. Clock avoidance

Just like mirrors, clocks are also something to avoid! It will remind you that you are normally in bed at this hour, or your kiddies are just finishing up bedtime routine, or that you forgot to feed your cat, thus increasing the likelihood of them wanting to eat you when you go home at night and fall asleep before forgetting to feed them, while you are standing up pretending to brush your teeth. Trust me…just as long as there is a rough estimate, and you can look up from the basement windows of your office, and realize that you have no life right now…then refer to numbers 1-6 and keep pushing through!

8. Support

Whether it looks like a fellow co-worker, who HATES human contact, giving you a hug because you look like you are going to cry, which in turn makes you cry, make sure you have support. I could not have gotten through the insanity of this project without the INSANE women who I was working with. I saw their mugs a hell of a lot more than I did my own (see #5). But they made me go to bed when I was having a mental break down from lack-o-sleep. We listened to each other snap, crackle and pop throughout the entire project. There was also support from home, where Cody would send me sweet and encouraging messages to remind me of how far we came… and that quitting now would be pointless.

We did it ladies…we got through that hell…and we will get through the next bout of insane work hours as well. If I can do it…you can do it…but I am not responsible for the caffeine jitters that are to ensue.

First light brings so much promise and beauty – not to mention the peace and calm that comes before the world is awake. We see so many sunsets in our lives, sometimes we forget how beautiful the sunrise can be. I have become a sunrise junkie.

As with all things that I love, I wanted to share the joy I find in these hours and decided to try to convince a few of the TLT ladies to join me in an insane adventure at stupid o’clock in the morning – 4:30 a.m. in fact.

I didn’t tell them where we were headed. I sent out a cryptic message to meet at my house, ready to depart on an adventure at this silly time and that I promised it would be worth the loss of a few hours of (in most cases) sleep.

I received the expected responses:

“Are you crazy??”

“Have you lost your mind?? 4:30??”

And then slowly, but surely, curiosity got the best of them and three of my brave TLT ladies agreed to come.

Part of me thinks that they really didn’t expect me to come through on these plans because I am far from a morning person – in fact most mornings I get ready without uttering a word until my first coffee has been consumed and I have had time to adjust to the idea that sleep is already over and the dream world hours away again.

That being said the early morning plays to my enjoyment of silence, calm and peace. It’s a compromise I am more and more willing to make the older I get and the more I realize how much enjoyment the wee hours of the morning bring.

As three very sleepy, brave and curious ladies arrived at my house, we piled into our car and headed to the first and most necessary stop on our adventure – Tim Horton’s.

After gathering our order and smiling at the curious glances of the drive-thru worker heavy with “what on earth are these nutty chicks doing up at this ungodly hour” thoughts, Kim, Jacqui, Julia and I continued on our adventure to one of my favourite places to gain perspective and take in the natural beauty we are surrounded by – Websters Falls.

Tews side of Websters Falls, Dundas ON

As light broke, so did the silence I was anticipating.

Making our way up the dewy trail laden with freshly spun webs, dew worms and of course pesky mosquitoes, I don’t know why I expected anything but our usual fits of laughter, dirty inside jokes and audible shrieks of enjoyment.

We were totally not supposed to be there yet…

Reaching the top, silence returned as each of us took in the view of sleepy little Dundas, Ontario, Spencer’s Gorge and the beautiful sunrise we were able to catch.

Daylight breaking over Dundas, Ontario

Our conversations ranged from the moment we were in, to challenges we were each facing in our daily lives, creating new memories together and of course recalling past hilarious events that have ensued during these early morning workouts.

And of course the funniest things get captured on Twitter

We hung out at the top for an hour or so, basking in the cool morning air, trying to hold onto these moments of joy before each of us became consumed by our usually busy and packed weekends that lay ahead of us.

My sisters ❤

Classy as always, ladies!

We had a ridiculously good time together (as usual) and vowed to take advantage of as many available crazy o’clock Saturday mornings as possible.

Our brave foursome at 6:00 a.m.

With sore abs from laughing, an unusual amount of early morning energy, legs stretched and ready for the day, we sauntered down trail for our drive back into town, pausing at every opportunity to take in the gorgeous views offered by the falls.

Nice bum, where you from?

Sisters at heart ❤

Nothing wakes you up quite like a morning session of laughter, cardio and a lot of coffee.

Sunrise selfies!

A huge part of my self-satisfaction has come from breaking out of my comfort zone, doing things a little differently and a lot less ordinary. The pay offs so far have been huge and I recommend a shake-up in routine to you all.

This week is Sophie’s last week of her first year of school. It’s ‘only’ junior kindergarten, but it’s so momentous…especially because she’s our first baby. Our first baby went to her first school. And she not only survived, she THRIVED. Thank goodness.

At the beginning of the school year I had a bunch of worries for a bunch of reasons. 1. I’m a worrier. Period. The end. It’s something that has always been part of my psyche and something I’m working on stamping out…or at least, getting under control. 2. My first day of school was filled with tears. Horrible, awful, ugly-cry tears. My mom put me on the bus to go to kindergarten and I was bawling. The old, curmudgeonly bus driver rasped, “Leave her. She’ll be fine.” The bus doors closed, my mom disappeared and I ended up sitting in the wrong seat (there was a boy side and a girl side and it was organized by grade – I sat on the boy side in an older grade’s row) crying all the way to school. 3. I’m a worrier. So yeah.

On this last Monday of this school year, I thought I’d recount some of the worries I’d had at the beginning of the year…and they all turned out okay in the end.

I was due with Isaac three weeks after Sophie started school. There was a lot of worry around how I would do it all. How I would make Sophie feel special and loved and supported with a newborn in the house. How I would waddle around post-C-section and be Mom of the Year without losing my mind. How I would keep track of three kids AND a school schedule. How I would have a newborn without the dreamy, sleepy, slow days that newborns had kick started for our family in the past. My C-section was scheduled Friday September 13. Sophie started school the week before. It was tight. It was dicey. I felt like I could totally do it. HA. Isaac showed up four weeks early on his own IGNORING ALL SCHEDULES. So I had a giant, new incision on the first days of school. And a newborn. And Sophie felt loved and cared for. And our dear friends, Heather and Adam, folded Sophie into their morning routine with their children and walked her to school for us for 6 weeks. And it was okay.

Sophie and her BFF Elora

Would her teacher be nice? It’s a TERRIFYING thing, sending your child into a building you’ve never been in, to do things you have no control over, with adults you’ve never met before, for large expanses of time over and over and over again. TERRIFYING. They don’t tell you this. I didn’t realize this. Sophie wasn’t terrified, but I was SO WORRIED and SCARED for her. What if her teacher was mean? What if her teacher was awful? What if they didn’t understand her? What if they didn’t let her go pee? What if they made her take off her crown? What if what if what if? There was a horrible, no-good, yelling teacher, Mrs. Miller, at my elementary school that my sisters had…and she was HORRENDOUS. What if Sophie got her Mrs. Miller? Nerves, nerves, nerves. But in truth, Sophie didn’t get that teacher. She got AMAZING teachers. Ones that loved her. Ones that she loved. Ones that called her Princess Sophie. Ones that were excited with her. Ones that put all fears about teachers aside. I’m not naive enough to think that she’ll never have a teacher that she doesn’t get along with, or one that isn’t the best, but this year, she had three teachers that were awesome. And to Mrs. Service, Ms. G, and Miss Bunghardt – THANK YOU. Thank you thank you thank you for making her love school. And for making it okay.

What do you mean we have to walk to school EVERY day? That’s nuts. That’s crazy. That’s not possible. Have you seen how short her legs are? Do you know how many children I have? Do you have any idea how hard it is to have any sort of schedule or organization with a newborn and a two-now-three-year old and a non-stop chatting junior kindergartener? Do you know what it’s like in the winter in our town? What happens when there’s so much snow on the ground we can barely walk? What happens when it’s so cold we’d normally not go outside if you paid us? What THEN?? I was ALWAYS a sheltered bus student growing up. The bus came to my driveway. The bus picked me up. The bus kept me safe. The bus dropped me off at school. The bus picked me up at school. The bus kept me safe. The bus dropped me off at my driveway. No walking. No unknown. No weather that I had to deal with directly. But you know? Walking to school every day wasn’t so bad. And when it got SO BAD, my amazing friends Adam and Heather and my incredibly generous sister Toni stepped in to help. And when it got SO MUCH BETTER walking to school every day was awesome – it was fresh air, it was outside, it was time for Lillian to run and Isaac to see the sun and me to get fresh air and for us to meet other walking families with kids our kids’ ages and…it was okay.

What if she gets bullied? It’s all you hear about. Kids getting bullied. Bullies running wild with no repercussions. Children not telling teachers. Teachers not responding. All of the horror stories of school becoming a torturous place. But after healing and walking to and from school with Sophie and meeting her friends (she made FRIENDS!!) and asking her about her day and listening to what problems she was having (“I don’t like it when no one listens to me.”), I calmed down. She wasn’t being bullied. And again, I’m not naive enough to think she’ll never meet a bully (I met my fair share) or get bullied, but this year wasn’t the year. It was okay.

She can’t write any letters. She doesn’t know how to read. She’s going to fail. Again, calm yourself, Julia. CHILL OUT. You know – they teach kids at school. And if, while a hundred years pregnant with a toddler AND a preschooler at home you didn’t get around to teaching your kid everything they’re going to learn at school, it will be okay. You know what else is okay? Getting to school late sometimes. And missing school because of a bad night’s sleep. Or dealing with head lice. Or dealing with croup. Sometimes it sucks. Sometimes it’s hard. But overall…it’ll be okay. Seriously. Calm. Down.

Saucy…and too smart for me

After dealing with all of these worries…I only have one left. How on earth am I going to be as exciting as school this summer? I don’t have a curriculum. She’s going to be SO BORED. !!!!

The Sisterhood have been inundated with huge projects at work, new jobs, losing jobs, losing their minds, and having to rebuild some family time for the past couple of weeks. We’re taking a wee break, just a week, to regroup, refresh, and reboot. We’ll be back Monday June 23 with more posts, more zaniness, more mouthiness, and more Sisterhood fun. Thank you for reading with us and bearing with us as we rest a little.

Daddy – in honor of Father’s Day, we took a little stroll down memory lane and found some of our favourite photos from days and moments spent with you. What we found were so many laughs, so many adventures, so many full, full bellies and so many memories made.

Dad, we love you and can’t wait to come spend the day with you to celebrate a day in honor of who you are to us – all while making new memories with you.

When we sisters decided to do Father’s Day posts, I truly had no idea what to write about exactly. After reading the sisters’ posts, I was moved and awed.

I thought for longer than I should have, and one thing kept popping into my mind over and over again: there is really only one thing I can say about fathers, and to do it I am going to tell you all a story.

One day, I was about 12 or 13 years old, and I was home alone with our dad. It was a Saturday and spring time. I was sitting on the couch and he came out from his office. Stretched his arms into the air, looked out the window and then turned to me.

“Wanna go get some ice cream?”

“Sure Dad, I’ll get my shoes on.”

I was thinking we were going to walk downtown to the amazing local ice cream store. So I put on my socks and running shoes and was all ready outside waiting for him.

He walked out the door and hopped into the vehicle (I believe at that time he had the Jimmy).

I was really confused – Dad likes to walk – but not thinking anything of it I got in and put on my seat belt.

Then he started driving away from town. In fact, we were going somewhere new…and I didn’t have a freaking clue where it was.

For the first time that I could remember, I had our dad all to myself. We talked the entire way there (wherever there was).

After driving for about 40 to 45 minutes, I finally asked, “Dad, where are we going?”

“To get ice cream.”

“… But, where?”

“It’s an adventure Kid; you will see.”

That was the only thing I really remember from the entire drive. That for the first time ever I got to go on an adventure.

We ended up going to Port Dover and getting ice cream on the beach and then walking around for a couple hours, just hanging out and talking. I don’t even remember half of what we said that day on the way there or back.

I do however remember I got bubble gum ice cream that was bright blue and stained my lips and tongue, and that I came home with Dad, happy and sun burnt.

I have never forgotten my first adventure.

My dad and I have not always had the best relationship (everyone has their bumps), but he gave me the greatest thing I could have asked for in my life – my love for adventures, and to just do something, even if it seems silly.

“All you can do is try, Kid.”

I carry it with me, Dad, and thank you for the best part of my life.

Me and Dad on graduation day (another adventure)

To me, being a dad is about letting your kids see possibilities. It’s about letting them have adventures and being there supporting them if they fail or if they triumph. I know Joe is going to be an awesome dad, and I know that one day, when we do embark on that brand new adventure, it is going to be everything that an adventure should be: exciting, scary, happy, sad, and a whole other range of emotions no one can even begin to describe. Dad taught me a lot throughout my life, but one thing that really stuck is the adventures.

This week being the week before Father’s Day, the sisters are writing about fatherhood, and much like my Mother’s Day post, I am looking to the future!

In previous conversations with some of my girlfriends, the discussion of children comes up, and for those of us who do not have them, the obvious question is, “Well…do you want them?”

One statement was made more than once – “I want them, but ‘Bob’ isn’t sure he will make a good dad… So I don’t know….” (Names have been changed). This is a very truthful statement, and I am sure that every man who decides to enter into fatherhood has this doubt.

Since the beginning of the saga that is Cody and Jacqui, Cody was never shy to tell me he wanted kids. I think this may have attracted me to him more than I already was. I am so close with my sisters that I want to recreate this bond. I have always wanted kids!

Holding Isaac

When Julia first announced Sophie, my oldest niece, Cody refused to hold her… He did the same with Lillian. But with Isaac, he had already been around babies and he became more comfortable. Every time I see him with my nieces, my uterus skips a beat and I get excited for our future babies to come.

Uncle Cody

The duties never end

Cody was lucky enough to grow up with two dads.

Vic who is the sweetest man, willing to give the shirt of his back to anyone, never asking for anything in return. If you are lucky enough to know him, then you know what I mean! The first time I met him, I immediately was one of his own, taken under his wing, so much so that I was told to call him Dad. He made me breakfast in bed and made it known that when I was at his house, I was not to lift a finger. To this day, as soon as we get to his house, I sleep – I may not be tired, but it’s like a sanctuary from our regular hustle and bustle. Dad helped us buy our house, is always quick to the rescue when we need it and not a day goes by that Cody doesn’t talk to him.

Best friends

Now, Cody’s step dad Paul and I have not always seen eye to eye on things. But I have said to him before and I say it to him again…if it wasn’t for him, we would still be living in their basement. Whenever there is a problem with the house, we call Paul and he drops everything to help. This is why last year when he broke his foot in Florida, there was no doubt in my mind that I would help. I took him to the hospital and stayed with him until he was done – I even snuck him food after the surgery. Cody and I would go over during last summer to help around the house where it needed it, because Paul would do this for us. He is quick with advice, and quick to help whenever and where ever he can.

Paul and his Momma

Because of these two men, I have no doubt in my mind of the amazing man and father Cody will be.

Cody’s father Vic on the right and his late Grandpa on the left. Forever Cody’s biggest influences.

Any man can be a father, but it takes a special kind of man to be a dad.

Just a bunch of babes

It takes a special heart to be a daddy. It takes patience, understanding, presence, strength, support, acceptance and most of all an active love.

Visiting daddy at work

Daddy is an earned name. It is called in times of joy, in times of pain and in times of sorrow. It is called when a defender, cheerleader or teacher is needed.

Melted

Dads are a daughter’s first love and a son’s first hero.

My world ❤

The first time I can remember knowing that I loved Michael, was the first time I watched him with his innocently beautiful daughter and beyond adorable son. My heart melted and never recovered. He is so much more than a father. He is a dad.

Happy Father’s Day, Michael!

Happy Father’s day to this wonderful man of mine – your children are beyond lucky to call you their daddy and I can’t wait to witness your relationships as they grow.